To the Halls of Mandos in a Backpack
Chapter III: Whine, Wine, and Other Things Detrimental to Lord Elrond's Health
AKA
Love is in the Air, Chapter 3- 'Mounting' Tension
(Pretentious Author's Notes: Before reading this chapter, I would recommend you read Beer and Girl Talk, reputedly the work of Princess Oiralimpe and a piece of such high quality that I *might* have written it myself.
Have fun,
Theodosia King :-)
(Obnoxious Author's Notes: Many apologies for taking so long to update. We've had everything going on, from overload at work and abnormally stressful holidays to lingering illnesses and other plot bunnies nibbling. Don't even get me started on how hard this chapter was to get started. Nevertheless, I think it is far superior to the previous one, especially for the admirers of Vienasar who, by the way, has not done that anytime recently, thank you very much -Crowbait)
The twins had promised themselves that they would comply with whatever was asked of them this day and, if they were just ignored, they would merely lay low and wait for Arwen, Aragorn, and those unimportant short guys to arrive. Vienasar had proposed that Huchelda's failure to successfully seduce Elrond may have been because, in her heart, she really did not relish the idea of, as he put it, "fucking the ugly, horny, stupid, possibly incestuous, and generally unpleasant bastard." She had laughed, told him that she couldn't agree more, and then reminded him that he probably ought not to say such things aloud.
Vienasar had grumbled about that, since she had said very similar things with neither shame nor fear, but he held his tongue. In truth, the twins did not get along very well. She had a serious superiority complex, believing that, in the hierarchy of the world, she was on top, Aragorn was beneath her, every other female was below that, and all the lowly males, including himself, sat on the bottom. She gave orders to him like she was his mother even though he seemed to recall that he was the first to leave her womb. She was haughty, overbearing, and dismissive of anyone's ideas but her own.
The only reason Aragorn would be willing to put up with her for more than five minutes was her looks; she was drop-dead gorgeous and, he assumed based on her figure and behavior, exceedingly shagalicious. Though not nearly as much as Arwen. But close. Very close. Dangerously close… He shook his head, trying to determine why he was thinking such thoughts about his sister and returned his attention to his eggs and bacon.
He snorted as he chewed with his mouth open. Huchelda just shook her head. She wasn't sure if he was always such a pig or just trying to cram two weeks' worth of disgusting eating habits into one meal. Either way… She had to keep reminding herself that she only needed to put up with him until she was safely wed to Aragorn, at which point she would go south with him, dropping off the hibbits, who were good for nothing but comic relief anyway, before getting to Minus Tirth (the city formerly known as Minus Amor) and reclaiming the throne from the psychotic and possibly sodomizing Stewart.
Her brother's grunt interrupted her planning. There would be time enough for that later, she supposed. And then it registered- someone was missing who ought to have been here. Glorfindel was probably still sleeping off his concussion- she still could not believe what that idiot brother of hers had done yesterday- and it made sense that King Elrond would try to avoid her, fearing that he might succumb to temptation if he saw her again, but there was someone else…
She turned to Elladan, who was being markedly less flirtatious this morning. She was unquestionably insulted, but had concluded that it was probably best not to say anything. "Where is Gandalf? I thought I heard him come in last night."
He didn't turn to look at her, instead addressing his plate: "He's closeted with my father. They're discussing plans for the council."
Vienasar looked up. His sister looked like she was about to chastise Elladan for not answering to her face, but then she got this wicked grin, and he groaned. He knew that grin. It was the face she got when she was contemplating something unpleasantly erotic, usually of a homosexual nature. He would never understand why some women were so obsessed with the idea of two men getting it on; he didn't have similar thoughts about women, and was thoroughly disgusted whenever he thought of Arwen kissing anyone besides himself.
Huchelda stood up and headed toward the door, her last biscuit forgotten in its puddle of gravy. He moved to intercept her.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low enough that it couldn't be overheard. "What happened to compliance? You're just going to get us in deeper."
She was looking at him funny. It was the same way he imagined Arwen would look at him during the night. He shuddered at the thought that she was thinking now like he had been thinking earlier. This was not good.
She shuddered herself and, in a typically haughty tone, told him off. "Quit your whining. You always whine too much. It'll be fine; I'm just going to have a bit of fun. It isn't as though I'm pulling this out of thin air: everyone knows that Gandalf is gay, and Elladan said they were 'closeted' together. I'll just give them a… push in the right direction." She laughed evilly and, as she walked away, it took all his willpower to focus on Arwen and remind himself that he could not kill his sister… yet. But Gandalf and Elrond… He shook his head. She was one sick bitch.
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"So we've lost Curunir. That won't make things any easier. I had been hoping he might prove of some use to us in dealing with the twins."
"There's nothing he could do that I can't. I've already planted the seeds for something that should neutralize the foul creatures and make Galadriel's weapon unnecessary."
"I wonder how long it will take her to get here…"
They had been discussing the council and the twins all through the night. Mithrandir was pacing near the door, trying to stay conscious, while Elrond was studying the map. Just looking at it gave him a headache, but he needed to figure out whether he should delay commencing the council until her arrival or not. More than once, he had considered teleconferring with her, but the thought of catching her and Celeborn at a bad time again held him back. He imagined that he would be having nightmares about that as soon as he got the opportunity to sleep again. If he couldn't come to a decision about the council before the hobbits came, though, he would ask Mithrandir to talk to her.
A sudden wind passing through the chamber blew the map to the floor. "Wonderful," Elrond muttered as he leaned over to pick it up… and stopped as he felt Mithrandir tightly embracing him in what was decidedly not a brotherly hug. "Oh, Valar," he muttered with both anger and fear, but it shortly became a sigh. "Oh, Valar…" He had forgotten what it was like to be held in Mithrandir's strong, if slightly aged, arms. It had been so long, and he had been so worried when Mithrandir had not returned from Isengard. He could not bear the thought of living alone while Mithrandir joined with Curunir. He sighed again as he settled into the embrace, but it quickly became a moan as Mithrandir clubbed him over the head with his staff.
Gandalf had been shocked when he was flung across the room toward Elrond with magic similar to that which Saruman had used to beat him up, and even more shocked when unbidden thoughts about the elf lord sprang into his head. What was going on? Long years in Middle-earth had made him forget much, but he very clearly remembered the contract Olorin had signed before sailing east, and he had certainly not forgotten the clause stipulating that the Istari should engage in no sexual activity at all. Though he did wonder if his colleagues had been ignoring that…
Elrond was not helping, so Gandalf disengaged from the inappropriate hug and tried to knock some sense into him. As the elf staggered, shaking his head, Gandalf whirled and, with his power, opened the door, drew Huchelda in, and slammed her against the wall with as much force as he could muster. She did not crumple to the floor, but instead stood up, no remorse or pain evident on her face. He had forgotten that there was only one way to cause pain to these creatures, and it was not yet assembled.
She tried to throw another spell at him, but he blocked it and pinned her to the wall. "Never… mess… with a Maia," he said quietly, but in a tone that brooked no argument. "None of us are gay here."
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"Oh really?" As if he could intimidate her into forgetting what she knew to be the truth. Old white guys who were (or ought to be) dead were all the same: they hated women with a passion, particularly those who tried to force them to face less than pleasant realities.
"Yes, really. We're no more gay than Arwen."
Huchelda opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. He was obviously forgetting about the time that Aragorn and Faramir had gone out for a beer and Arwen had decided she wanted to engage in more than just girl talk with Eowyn. How could he not remember that incident? Everyone had heard about it. On the other hand, mentioning it would just infuriate her brother, perhaps enough to make him back out on their deal. So she stayed silent, nodded, and turned on all the charm she could muster. There was nothing for Gandalf to do but remove the spell and let her go. Which he did, still glaring at her.
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Elrond watched her go, unsure what he was watching. That (he spat an expletive so foul that Mithrandir flinched) was either Sauron, having figured out how to assume fair guise once more, or something else channeling the spirit of Morgoth. A whole bottle of elvish mouthwash would be unable to cleanse the foul taste that lingered in his mouth, and an unopened cask of elvish wine could not purge the evil that lingered in his mind. Not that he wasn't planning to try.
Mithrandir must have been reading his mind, because he made the door close before Elrond could leave. "Not so fast. You can get yourself drunk later, but right now there are a couple more things we need to do for the council and we can imbue an amulet to make you more resistant to her efforts at mind control."
Elrond sighed. The Istari was right, of course. So Elrond proceeded to spend the rest of the morning draining his power and the whole afternoon immersing his brain cells in the blissful oblivion of strong beverages.
Elrond was returned to consciousness by a hand shaking his shoulder. It was Erestor. He looked concerned, but Elrond could tell that it wasn't his condition that bothered him. Erestor appraised him of the situation. "My lord, your daughter just brought Estel and the hobbits back and, well, the Ulairi attacked them back at Amon Sul, giving the ringbearer a particularly worrisome wound, which they really… need you to look at."
"Damn. How long have I been out?"
"Only a couple of hours, I'm afraid."
"Ugh. It feels like less. And I thought my head couldn't hurt any worse. Why did they have to come tonight? It's hard enough to heal when you're drained, nevermind the fact that I drank enough to give an oliphaunt hiccoughs."
As if in answer to Elrond's question, Glorfindel came in. "How did they get here so soon? The note they sent with the owl said they shouldn't be here until tomorrow night."
"The what?"
As if in answer to Elrond's question, the lovely white owl settled on Glorfindel's shoulder.
"Oi Valar," Elrond sighed. This was going to be a very, very long night. Again.
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Disclaimers: The two original characters and the three nonexistent authors are mine (loath though I am to admit that my brain generated them), but everything else is the intellectual property of the Tolkien Estate. Hedwig is the property of J. K. Rowling, though how the twins got her out of the Harry Potter universe and convinced her to carry messages for Frodo is anyone's guess. I'm not sure if Austin Powers ever used the word 'shagalicious,' but it is inspired by those movies anyhow.
Review Responses:
Kimmaree- Uh oh. First I wake the kids, then I subject them to second-hand laughter. I can't win :-) As you've no doubt guessed, writing silly stuff about Galadriel just comes naturally to me.
TreeHugger- Similar to humor about Galadriel, being mean to Elrond just comes naturally ("It was the risk we all took when we let PJ pad our parts"). Awrin sends Hildair an invite to the barbecue she will hold when the tale is finished. Once again I apologize for the last chapter and hope that this is higher quality stuff (though the real quality, of course, is in Wings).
Dragon-of-the-north- Celeborn demonstrates here why the non-entity mode is decidedly an on-and-off behavior. Yes, the uncanon plague is spreading. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Greetings from Mordor- Glad you like it. Here is more, as per your request.
Author's Notes: First, a big thank you goes to makoto-47 for suggesting the Gandalf/Elrond pairing in her review. That turned out to be just the thing I needed to break the writer's block on this story. Which leads me to the real apology for taking so long with this chapter. After Wings and Dueling Club decided to demand all my attention for awhile, I finally figured out how to use makoto's suggestion and this chapter is entirely the product of the past 36 hours. I had been hoping to give you all something longer, and deliver it in a more timely manner than I did, and I apologize for both.
In other news, the characters definitely took this in a different direction than I anticipated, changing their own personalities a bit, but continuity need not be a huge priority for this story, so whatever. The timeline and the Rivendell breakfast are both corruptions by Crowbait and TK- neither are true to canon. Oiralimpe means 'eternal wine' in Quenya (once again courtesy of Alex Grigny de Castro's Lambe Eldaiva). And, one more time for the record, I absolutely HATE slash.
And, as usual, plot bunnies and reviews are appreciated. Cheers.